He didn’t plan to hurt anyone that night.

Rafael told himself that as he stood in the narrow service corridor beneath the old financial district, the air thick with dust and metal and the faint hum of generators. The city above was glittering—ignorant, indifferent. Down here, everything was quieter. Meaner. Truer.

The phone in his hand vibrated again.

Unknown Number: She’s on the list. Midnight. Pier 47.

Rafael closed his eyes.

Alyssa.

His jaw tightened until it hurt.

Ever since Davin had unleashed his final offensive, the rules had changed. Information wasn’t currency anymore—it was ammunition. And Alyssa had become the most valuable target alive.

He exhaled slowly, forcing the...